


I'm in a Band (Doesn't that Turn You On?)

by MageofHeart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I tried ok, M/M, One Night Stands, Smut, daves in a band, karkat is karkat, sorta plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 20:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageofHeart/pseuds/MageofHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat is visiting his best friend Sollux for the summer. Sollux, as it happens, is the drummer of a local music group and Karkat has to go to their show by default. The lead singer really likes the look of Karkat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm in a Band (Doesn't that Turn You On?)

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt of Dave being in a band and him and Karkat fucking MONTHS ago (when I was still working on Red Converse) and just now decided to finish it. It's not the best, but I tried, and hey, I like it, so. Critic and comments welcome, as always. 
> 
> lyrics in the beginning are from Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy

_Everything you say can and will be held against you_  
So only say my name,  
It will be held against you.

Karkat Vantas was only in the front row for one reason and one reason only: Sollux, his best friend from his home town, just happened to be the drummer of the shitty local band that was playing at one of the four clubs in town. This was the first time Karkat had seen Sollux in person in three years, visitings hard to come by as high school dragged on. It really fucking sucked that Sollux's band had a gig the first night he was down there (Karkat didn't even know Sollux HAD a band!). 

Honestly, Karkat wasn't even into this type of music. It all sounded like a trainwreck to him, and he could barely understand what the fuck the lead singer was saying. To say he was having an okay time would be the overstatement of the decade. Especially since the singer kept pulling douchey shades down to eye him and wink and curve his finger at him when the words "Why don't you come a little closer" were sang. No fucking thank you, Karkat would not be coming closer. If he had the choice, he would be backing right the fuck up. 

The singer, Dave Strider, had an arrogant air about him, and Karkat could tell by the way he moved on the stage that he thought he was the hottest thing in the room, thought he was God's flawless gift to the human race. Please. Karkat could see that pimple on the end of his nose; he wasn't fooling him, even as the girls in the crowd squealed and swooned. Not even when a pair of lacy pink polka-dot panties flew over his head and up on the stage. 

His singing wasn't even that good. 

With each passing millisecond, Karkat hated his life and his decision to visit more and more. 

With each passing millisecond, Karkat had a more and more difficult time denying his attraction to the singer. 

Especially when he bit his lip like that, pulling at it with his teeth. Oh... 

If Karkat was seriously getting all hot and bothered at a concert he would never, ever forgive himself. Never ever never. 

But the way he gyrated his hips, God, the mental images it gave Karkat. And Dave was just his type-- blonde, pale, freckled, slender... Maybe if he got out of the crowd. . . He pushed his away through the tight knit crowd, almost knocking people over as he went. Karkat didn't care, or even notice, really. His mind was set on getting out of there, sitting at a table and sipping a Diet Coke, savouring the after taste that accompanied the variations of diet sodas. 

And that's just what Karkat did, at least for the next half hour. He downed three Diet Cokes and one 7Up. He tried to keep his eyes off the stage, off the singer with the douchey shades. But he couldn't help his foot from tapping ever so slightly, the music entering his ears much to his dismay. 

A half hour. That's how long Karkat sat by himself. Thirty minutes, and each one passed slowly. In fact, Karkat was relived when, ten minutes after Sollux's band went offstage, the squeak of chair legs against the cement floor was heard, and the seat across was him was sat in. "About time," Karkat said, finishing up a game of Bejeweled on his phone. "Sollux, I swear to fuck, if you have to do this the entire time I'm here, I'm going home early." 

Of course, when he looked up, it wasn't Sollux in that seat, but Dave Strider, wearing a crooked smirk on a smug face, sunglasses hanging off his shirt collar. "Enjoy the show?" 

"Like fuck I did," came his reply, his eyes narrowing. What the hell did this assclown want? 

"I think you liked my moves, I put on a show just for you." The blonde opposite him winked one eye, propping his head up in his hand. "You got a name?" 

Karkat's eyes scan the crowd, looking for Sollux. He nervously picks up his can of soda and trys to take a drink, but the can is empty. "Karkat," he says, putting the soda down and meeting the singer's stare head on. "I'm Karkat. Where's Sollux?" 

"Sollux?" Dave questions. "You here with him? He up and left like, right after he got his set together. Said he was tired." 

Are you fucking kidding? Karkat's hands clenched to fists and he bit the side of his cheek. He could feel his anger bubbling up inside him and he tried to metaphorically push it down. 

"Fuck. What the shit am I supposed to do now?" 

"Ah, I dunno," Dave said, getting out of his seat and winking at Karkat. "You could come to my place." 

"Oh, yes, that sounds like a fabulous idea. Let me go to some stranger's house. Come on, let's go!" 

A grin. "That's the spirit." A finger trailing under Karkat's chin, making him look up and meet crimson eyes. "Let's go, Kitten." 

Even a week later, Karkat will be wondering why he actually went. 

\--- 

It started with a few drinks ("We have beer, water, and apple juice, take your pick."), discussions of music ("What do you mean, our music sucks? Our music is better than the trash I'm sure you listen to."), movies ("Romcoms? You fuckin' chicken wuss."), and books ("Don't read much. I like comics though, those are neat."). It was all just empty conversation, really. Place holders, ways to keep from ripping each other's clothes off right away, which they both had a feeling was going to happen at any given moment. They were just waiting for that little push, that inching to the bedroom to know it was time. Dave was surprised Karkat didn't bring up the weather. 

Nervous butterflies danced in Karkat's stomach, and he could feel bile rising up his esophagus. Very attractive. Super sexy. Guys DREAM about kissing someone in the midst of acid reflux. He tried to swallow it down, wincing as it burned his throat. Great, he's fucked this up already. 

Dave, on the other hand, was growing impatient. He looked over Karkat's body, zeroing in on the crook between his neck and shoulder. He bet it tasted delicious, slightly salty from sweat. Dave longed to know what Karkat's body looked like under that two size too big hoodie. He flicked his tongue out and quickly ran it over his lips before speaking the sentence that had been running through his mind since he saw Karkat standing in the crowd. "Want to see my room?" 

When Karkat nods, Dave knows he's getting some. 

He leads the tan beauty into his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. He doesn't bother with the lock. Bro's not home, and if he comes home in the midst of anything, he'll know not to disturb Dave by the noises emitting from behind the closed door. At least, that's what Dave hoped. If Bro decided to be that annoying older sibling he sometimes was, there was always the chance he'd decide to interrupt. He didn't tell Karkat that little detail, though, not wanting to scare the shorter boy away. 

Karkat stands in at the foot of Dave's bed, arms crossed over his chest and not meeting Dave's gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, the butterfly wings bated relentlessly in his stomach. He always felt so nervous before getting into bed with anyone, always scared they'd become uninterested when the clothes were gone and Karkat was most vulnerable. Chancing a quick glance at the singer, he brings his eyes up to Dave's face. 

God, he's biting his lip again, and his eyes are lit up just right, showing how interested he really is. Dave's expression sends chills down Karkat's spine, causes a familiar stirring in his nether regions. Karkat blinks, clears his throat, runs a shakey hand through his hair. "Nice room." 

"Thanks," Dave says, crossing the room in a few short strides. He brings a hand up and cups Karkat's cheek. Their eyes burn into each other, and Dave's thumb strokes under Karkat's eye. 

When they think back on the night later, neither of them will remember who leaned forward, who initiated that first kiss that gave them both the courage to continue. They just know that in the next moment their lips met in a heated, slightly wet kiss. Their lips moved together, sliding against each other. Wet, breathy noises filled the air around them, and Karkat was going light headed from the lack of air. Dave's teeth nipped at Karkat's bottom lip, and he savored the taste of Karkat's wanton moan. 

With a light push, Karkat was on his back, on the bed and underneath Dave, whose hands are traveling up Karkat's shirt, exploring the heated skin as the fabric of his shirt pushes up. Dave disconnects his mouth from Karkat's, who whines and leans up to get that contact again. The blonde just smirks, ducking his head down to kiss at Karkat's stomach and up to his chest, bunching the shirt up under Karkat's armpits. Lips ghost over nipples, and Karkat sucks in a breath, fingers curling against Dave's neck. 

They drink each other in, explore and become familiar with each other's bodies. Karkat learns of a spot on Dave's neck that makes him moan like a porn star, and Dave gets well acquainted to Karkat's ear lobe and what sucking it just right makes him sound like. Shirts get pushed up, but never fully removed, and belts hang unbuckled from their loops. Karkat's hands move to unbutton and unzip Dave's pants, slipping one between the denim and his boxers, cupping his erection. 

This drives Dave crazy, and he rocks against that hand with desperation. "Fucking God," he curses, his voice slightly hoarse, eyes on the ceiling. Karkat pushes himself up onto an elbow, moving so he can wrap his swollen lips around Dave's nipple, attacking it with his tongue. Dave's moans grow more erratic, and he holds Karkat's head in place, still grinding against that hand. 

And then he yanks Karkat back by the hair so he can see the other's face. Karkat looks up at him with hazy eyes, flushed cheeks, and red, red lips. His mouth is slightly open. They move towards each other, their tongues meeting before their lips do. 

Hands on Karkat's shoulders push him back onto the bed, and he can't help but be turned on by the way Dave pushes and pulls him to wherever he wants him to be. "Pants off," Dave nearly whines, and Karkat complies, unfastening his pants like he did Dave's and pushing them and his boxers down his hips. When he looks back at Dave, he sees that Dave has done the same. Pre-cum beads on both of their heads. Karkat wants to lap Dave's up. 

Dave, however, spreads Karkat's legs a bit, and nestles between them, their cocks sliding together. They groan in unison, Karkat's head falling back as his torso arches up. Dave wraps a hand around both of them, then slowly starts to move his hips. 

Karkat's nails dig into the flesh of Dave's shoulders, his moans loud and echoing off the bedroom walls. Sweat glistens on his chest, and Dave moves his head down to taste it. Soon, Karkat is moving his hips right along with Dave, adding to the friction. They speed up; Karkat curses, scratches his nails down Dave's back. 

Dave's moans are heavy pants, head rested against the space between Karkat's neck and shoulder. His lips latch on, biting and sucking at that skin, wanting to give Karkat a reminder of the night for when he goes back to Sollux's, and then back home. 

They can feel themselves getting close, feel their orgasms building up as they frantically move against each other. Karkat now has an arm thrown over his eyes, his moans building in volume, as Dave makes soft groans, his free hand struggling to hold himself up. 

He comes first, eyes snapping shut and hips jerking forward one, two, three times, spilling himself all over his hand and Karkat's stomach. He wants to collapse, but keeps the movements up so Karkat can get his moment in the spotlight, too. Dave knows it's coming when Karkat's legs begin to tremble, when he nearly screams and the one hand holding onto Dave tightens to an almost painful hold. 

Satisfied, Dave now allows himself to collapse on top of Karkat. "Get the fuck off of me," Karkat complains, gasping for breath. 

"You weren't saying that a second ago," is Dave's reply, rolling onto his side and wiping his damp hair out of his eyes. 

"A second ago you were useful." Karkat stands on still shaky legs, pulls his shirt down. Bad idea, Dave thinks. Jizz is going to be all over that shirt now. "I'm showering," he tells Dave, and Dave tells him where the bathroom is. 

As a post-orgasm thought, Dave pulls out his phone, opening his messages to see he has one unread, from Sollux. 

_he better be less bitchy now._

I don't think so, man, Dave thinks. I don't think so. 


End file.
